


Aftermath

by WayWardWonderer



Category: Emergency!
Genre: Diagnosis, Fever, Gen, Hurt, Mystery, ailment, ill, injured, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 13:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12706359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayWardWonderer/pseuds/WayWardWonderer
Summary: Four days after taking care of a brush fire the Station experiences a scare when Mike Stoker falls sick with an unknown ailment. Now Rampart must find a way to treat the downed engineer while the rest of the crew try to find the source of his illness.





	Aftermath

Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto were restocking their medical supplies and placing each box back into their respective squad compartments when the engine returned to the station. 'Big Red' was covered in a fine layer of smoky grime with flakes of fresh ash leaving behind a thin fog as it backed into the bay.

"Man..." Johnny slammed shut the final compartment door. "I thought they just went to a brushfire, looks like they went toe-to-toe with an entire city block!"

As the returned crew slowly climbed down from the engine, each man looking just as disheveled as the engine and equally exhausted, the more Johnny and Roy became convinced that the brushfire in question was not as routine as they had come to expect.

Captain Hank Stanley took off his helmet and rubbed his fingers through his dark, sweaty hair. Ash continued to fall and cling to his blackened smoke covered face. "Johnny, Roy." He greeted his two paramedics. "Anything exciting happen while we were out?"

Roy scanned the engine and his captain one last before answering. "No, but it looks like you had enough for excitement for all of us."

"You have no idea." Hank slipped off his turnout coat relaxed his shoulders. "I hope that is the worst call of the day, I really do."

Chet Kelley, Marco Lopez and Mike Stoker all proceeded to remove their helmets and turnout coats as well, soot and ash fell from their clothing leaving small piles on the floor of the bay at their feet.

Marco looked down at the ash and sighed as he looked at Chet. "I'll go get a broom if you put on some coffee."

"Deal."

As the rest of the engine crew dispersed into the kitchen Johnny and Roy proceeded to check the oxygen tanks in the Squad. As they lowered the resuscitator to the ground Marco returned with a fresh shirt and a broom. He began sweeping the ash into piles.

"Hey Marco," Johnny was curious about the fire. "What happened out there?"

"What?" Marco looked up and scanned the bay until he saw Johnny looking at him. He was so tired he didn't really hear Johnny talking. "Oh. Well, it's just too odd to really explain."

"Try me!" Now Johnny was really curious.

"Okay..." Marco was folded his hands over the end of the broom and was leaning on it. "You know it was a brushfire, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it turns out the brushfire wasn't started in the 'usual manner'."

"What was it?"

"A car."

"A car? What do you mean a car?" Roy was listening to the conversation and was just as curious.

"Some moron stole a car and hid it in the brush. He panicked when he couldn't find it again so he tried to burn the weeds out of his way so he could locate it."

Johnny stopped fumbling with the resuscitator. "You're kidding!"

"Nope." He then continued to sweep up the ash.

Johnny and Roy couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. By this time Mike had returned to the bay, he too had a clean shirt. He had a rag in one hand and bottle of disinfectant in the other.

Roy watched as Stoker opened up the door to the rig and began spraying down the interior. "Hey Mike, what're you doing?"

Mike stepped down from the cab as he waited for the fumes to fade a little before scrubbing. "While we were taking care of the fire a field mouse was hiding out in the cab."

"A mouse? How'd he get up there?" He tried to imagine something so small scaling something so big.

"I don't know. I guess fire can be a great motivator."

"I guess."

The Klaxon's sounded off noisily, echoing loudly through the bay. 'Squad 51; Heart Attack: 616 Maple, 616 Maple. Time-Out: 13:22.'

Johnny had returned the resuscitator the Squad's compartment while Roy wrote down the address and acknowledged the call. "Squad 51: K.M.G. 3-6-5." The door had been left open to help air out the bay off the lingering smoke smell and ash.

As the Squad disappeared from the bay and down the street Mike climbed back into the engine cab to finish cleaning it out. Just as he expected he found several mouse droppings on the floor. After dousing the floorboards with the disinfectant he finished cleaning up after the mouse and climbed down from the cab. Stretching out his neck and back Mike headed toward the kitchen, the alluring aroma of fresh coffee was too enticing to pass up.

Marco had finished sweeping up and entered the kitchen shortly after Mike.

The four remaining members of Station 51 sat at the kitchen table, exhausted.

Hank looked at his men and heart went out to them, he would never dispute their work ethic or heart. He wanted to find a way to reward his crew for their hard work, or at the very least raise their spirits since they were so low on energy. But as he looked at his crew he immediately became focused on his most quiet engineer.

Ever since the fire Mike seemed quieter than usual. He also seemed to be far more exhausted than the rest of the crew.

"You feeling alright Mike?"

"Yeah Cap. Just tired, my back and neck are a little stiff too."

"You want to take the rest of the shift off?" He couldn't help but notice how much more tired Mike appeared than anyone else.

"What? No, I'm fine." He seemed a little offended that his captain would ask such a question. "I just need to rest for a few minutes, then I'm good to go."

"Alright." Hank didn't want to keep pressing his engineer with irritating questions.

* * *

 

The afternoon dragged on uneventfully. Just after 2:30pm (14:30) the Squad returned to the station. Johnny and Roy slowly and silently walked away from their Squad and into the kitchen. Both men sat down on the sofa, pushing Henry to the side, and remained silent.

Hank had been reading the latest department memo when he noticed his paramedics were uncharacteristically quiet, almost sad. "Hey fella's, how was your run?" Instinctively Hank knew that when Johnny and Roy were silent after returning from a run that meant the victim didn't make it.

Roy answered gloomily. "Not great."

"How's that?" Hank continued, waiting for the inevitable negative answer.

"He didn't make it."

"Sorry." Hank then thought to himself. _'I knew it, shouldn't have asked_.'

Johnny spoke up. "Don't be sorry Cap, it's not like you had any ability to prevent his heart attack. Or the ability to call for help sooner..." His voice trailed off, he knew it was unprofessional to take a loss personally or to blame the victims' family members and friends.

Roy patted Johnny on the shoulder. "Want some coffee?"

"Nah, I'm good for the moment."

* * *

 

Mercifully the Klaxon's remained silent for the rest of the shift. The stationhouse was able to collectively rest and mentally recover from the day's events. Hank made sure to thank the 'Big Fireman in the Sky' for the slow day. The rest of the crew was eagerly using up the hiatus to catch up on paperwork, wash the engine, mop up the bay and make dinner.

However as the evening gave way to night Hank couldn't help but notice that Mike was nowhere to be seen. Leaving the kitchen he checked the bunkroom and found his missing engineer already asleep. _'Must've been more tired that he realized._ ' Hank left Mike alone to sleep in peace.

The night wore on and the Klaxon's stayed quiet. Their neighboring stations were not so lucky. Each house remained active all day and evening, but thankfully Station 51 seemed to hanging onto their lucky slow day. When it was lights out each man practically passed out in their banks as the sweet sanctuary of sleep overtook their minds and bodies.

The next morning the crew awoke from their uninterrupted sleep and began their morning routine before the shift was officially over. The first thing that Hank saw the next morning, despite sleeping well all through the night, Mike still looked tired. "Morning Mike. Sleep well?"

"Huh? I guess. I just wish I could get some energy back." He was rubbing at his neck and shoulders like they were aching as he spoke to his captain.

"I hate to keep asking you this, but are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Yeah, I just slept funny. My neck is one big knot and my shoulders are stiff." He did his best to straighten his posture. "Having a day off will wonders, you'll see."

"Okay, I'll take your word for it." As the crew walked into the kitchen Hank looked at the calendar on the wall. "Hey good news guys, starting today we get three days off."

Johnny sounded thrilled. "Yeah, I've been waiting for this for two weeks now."

"Let me guess..." Roy responded sarcastically to his partner's comment. "You have a date."

"Jealous?" Johnny teased.

"Not at all. The best part of marriage is never having to deal with the drama of dating anymore."

Chet had to get his two-cents in. "Gage having a night out with a girl _without_ drama? Never gonna' happen, even if he was married!"

Everyone laughed warmly at the jab, except for Mike. He remained quiet as he finished changing out of his uniform.

* * *

 

Three days off from work did the entire crew a world of good, with the exception of Mike.

While Johnny had a couple of eventful dates, Roy managed to spend some time with his family at the beach. Chet spent his time helping Marco with some home repairs and Hank just lounged around with his wife. Mike on the other hand attempted to rest as much as possible to regain his lost energy but no matter how much he slept he still felt tired. The muscle pain in his neck and shoulders began spreading to his back and down his arms.

Mike's first instinct was that he was coming down with some sort of flu and took the proper measures to nip his illness in the bud. Hot showers, lots of rest and a few aspirin to keep the pain at a minimum so he could continue to rest. But nothing seemed to work, he felt himself getting sicker as each day passed. On the third day he developed a mild cough that turned harsh, which only escalated into full coughing fits that would sometimes leave him feeling short of breath.

Falling asleep was only a challenge now thanks to his combination of relentless symptoms.

When his alarm went off the following morning Mike felt even worse. He sat up slowly and rubbed at his tired eyes, his head was beginning to swim from his fatigue. With waning enthusiasm he made his way to the bathroom for a quick shower, hoping it'd help wake him up. It didn't. It was only after he stepped out of the shower and caught a glance of his reflection in the mirror did he see that he looked as bad as he felt. He was pale with dark circles forming under his eyes. His eyes in general were also a little bloodshot.

For a moment he thought about calling off sick as he stifled another cough, but decided against it. He didn't want to stay home alone if he really was getting sick and figured if he had anything serious Johnny or Roy would help him out.

After his shower he changed slowly into his street clothes and grabbed the keys to his truck. He didn't even bother to grab anything to eat or drink on his way out the door, he had no appetite to speak of.

* * *

 

Johnny walked into the locker room with a broad grin on his face, he sat down on the bench and began changing into his uniform. His smile never leaving his face.

Chet, who had already begun changing, noticed Johnny's chipper mood and decided to ask about it. "Why are you so happy Gage?"

"Oh, no reason..." His sheepish tone was enough to keep anyone guessing.

"So I take it your date went well."

"Oh, well, you could say that."

After pinning his badge to his shirt Chet sighed impatiently. "All right, I'll bite. What happened?"

Before Johnny could answer Roy walked in and began changing as well. "Mornin' guys."

Johnny turned his attention toward Roy and away from Chet. "Hey Roy, use your time off wisely."

"Yeah, the beach has never been so relaxing."

Growing a little irritated Chet butted back into the conversation. "Gage?"

"Yeah?" Johnny had finished changing and was now tying his shoes.

"I asked what happened on your date."

Johnny's broad smile somehow became broader. "Oh yeah, my date..."

"Well?" Chet was ready to yell!

"Calm down Chet, I'll tell ya' all about it."

Roy couldn't help but notice how amused Johnny looked and how annoyed Chet looked. "Go ahead, tell us."

"Okay, here's what happened. You remember the cute redhead that volunteers at Rampart's daycare center?"

Chet though about for a moment. "Yeah, her name was Miranda, right?"

"Right."

" _You_ managed to get a date with _Miranda_?" Chet sounded surprised.

"Sure did. After we had a great evening, she went up north to spend time with her sister."

"And... That's all?"

"'It that all?'..." Johnny mocked Chet before continuing. "The next night I get a call from the tall blonde nurse who started at Rampart about six weeks ago..."

Chet knew exactly who Johnny was talking about. "Becca?"

"That's her!"

"You went on a date with Miranda and Becca in three days?"

"Yup." Johnny was more than willing to talk about Becca. "As it turns out, she decided to transfer to another hospital closer to her hometown in Washington and wanted to have one last 'night out' here in L.A. before she left!" He put his hand to his chest in a 'regal' fashion. "She called yours truly and the night was just as memorable as it was... passionate."

"No wonder you're so happy..." Chet smirked.

"Best three days off I've ever had!"

Roy had finished changing and was nonchalantly rolling his eyes at his partner's joyous 'holiday' when Marco pushed open the door to the locker room. "Hey guys, is Mike in there?"

Chet had been the first to arrive after Hank, and he hadn't seen Mike all morning. "No Marco, not yet."

"Cap's looking for him. If you see him tell him Cap is waiting in his office." Marco shut the door and returned to the kitchen.

Johnny stood up from the bench. "Now that's weird, usually Mike is the first one here. Hell, I think he's even shown up before Cap a few times."

"Yeah." Roy agreed. "I wonder if he slept in or something."

"I don't know."

Together Johnny, Roy and Chet exited the locker room and were heading toward the kitchen as well, when suddenly they saw Mike's truck pull up. "Oh, there he is." Glad to see their missing colleague was no longer missing the three continued for the kitchen.

Mike slowly climbed out of his truck, his hand pressed to his head. He didn't take any aspirin, now his neck ache was giving him a headache and could swear that he was beginning to run a fever. Unwilling to call off or worry the guys he made his way slowly to the locker room to finally change into his uniform. As he approached the door he stumbled a little, Hank was on his way out of his office when he saw Mike.

"Mike? You look like Hell! Are you going to make it the rest of the shift?"

"Yeah Cap." As he covered his mouth to contain another cough, he never looked his captain in the eyes and he continued to make his way into the locker room.

Right away Hank knew that Mike was very sick and needed to be checked out. As a captain he wanted to make sure his entire crew was physically fit for duty, but didn't want to call out Mike and question his ability to judge a situation, let alone his own health. And as a friend he wanted to make sure Mike was taken care of without 'embarrassing' him.

Hank walked into the kitchen to join the rest of his crew as he pondered over his next decision.

* * *

 

Mike finally emerged from the locker room and wandered into the bay just as roll call was beginning. Hank looked over at his ill engineer with sympathy. When Johnny and Roy noticed his pale pallor and sweaty complexion they immediately became concerned for his health as well, but neither asked him about in front of the other guys.

No one spoke out of line during roll call, afterward however Hank took Mike aside and into his office. "Mike, I think you should go home pal."

"No Cap, I'm fine." Another bout of coughing quickly disproved his claim.

"I don't think so. And I really don't want you to be handling any large equipment or dealing with fire if you're not one hundred percent."

Mike cleared his throat and nodded his head, accepting the fact that he was too ill to be working. "Yeah, guess you're right."

"Don't worry about it, I'll call for a replacement and then you can go-" The Klaxon's blared loudly cutting him off midsentence.

_'Station 51; car accident: corner of West Palm and Main, West Palm and Main: Time-out: 07:44.'_

Marco had written down the information and confirmed the call to dispatch before Hank and Mike exited the office. Making a quick decision Hank made a last minute change of drivers. "Chet, you're driving the engine today."

Chet seemed a little surprised by this order. "Uh, sure Cap."

Hank patted Mike on the shoulder as they climbed into the engine. "Nothing personal Mike."

"I know."

With the Squad leading the Engine to the scene of the accident, Hank kept his eye on Mike trying to mentally solve a problem before it began. "Mike, just hang back and let the rest of us handle it."

Before Mike could answer he found himself in the throes of another coughing fit. As he covered his mouth he weakly nodded so he could acknowledge his captains order.

Pulling up to the scene of the accident each man went into action while Mike stayed back, and felt absolutely useless and horrid. He watched through heavy eyes as Marco and Chet worked to hose down the gasoline while Johnny and Roy worked to free the trapped victims and then begin treatment. Upon seeing the twisted, mangled metallic wreckage of the two vehicles Hank called for an ambulance to the scene.

Johnny stepped back from the first car with young teenager at his side. The new driver was visibly shaken but miraculously uninjured. After Johnny escorted her to the curb, he simply cleaned and placed a bandage over the small cut on her chin.

It seemed Roy's victim was just as fortunate, except he wasn't a teenage girl. He was a middle-aged drunk! Not even 8 in the morning and the man was completely wasted, such a sad sight to behold.

Fortunately the department wouldn't have to babysit the drunk for long as a police car had pulled up to the scene to make an official report.

Relieved that the accident only looked worse than it actually was, Hank returned to the engine to check on Mike. Mike was having another coughing fit, each cough sounded heavy and harsh.

"How you holding up Mike?"

But Mike didn't respond, he couldn't. His coughing was become worse and he could barely catch his breath between the coughs that wracked his body mercilessly.

"Mike? Can you breathe?" The coughing fit passed but now Mike seemed to be having trouble taking a deep breath. "Hold on pal. Johnny! Roy! I need you over here!"

From the tone of their captain's voice Johnny and Roy knew something was wrong. With both victims under the watchful eye of the police officer they jogged back toward the engine and their captain.

Roy's eyes were drawn to Mike still sitting in the engine. "Cap? What's going on?"

"He's having trouble breathing." Hank had taken Mike's arm and thrown over his shoulders to he could help him climb down from the engine cab to the street. "Help me get him down."

Without a moment's hesitation Roy took ahold of Mike's other arm and together he and Hank lowered Mike from the cab to the street below. Johnny had returned to the squad to retrieve the equipment, he took one look at Mike and knew that he was in trouble.

Roy wrapped his hand around Mike's wrist and began taking his pulse. "Lean back."

Hank had taken a yellow blanket from a small compartment from the engine and laid it on the ground. Johnny walked back to the engine with the bio-phone and oxygen tank, he promptly returned to the squad to grab the drug box.

Hank helped guide Mike down onto the blanket. By this time the ambulance that had been initially called to take in the car accident victims had arrived at the scene.

Roy placed the oxygen mask over Mike's face and placed his hand on his abdomen to count his respirations. "How long have you been feeling sick Mike?"

As he tried to answer he began coughing again. Roy pulled the mask from his face for a moment until the fit passed, then replaced it. Unable to answer Mike held up four fingers instead.

"Four. Four days?"

Mike nodded confirming Roy's guess. "Okay."

Johnny returned with the last of the equipment. He opened up the bio-phone ready to make contact with Rampart if necessary.

Roy opened up the drugbox to retrieve the stethoscope. "How long have been coughing?"

This time Mike held up one finger.

"One day, so it started today."

Again Mike nodded.

"Johnny, open the line to Rampart."

"Right."

Hank kneeled down by Mike. "Hang in there." He looked up at Roy and mouthed his question. _'Is it bad?_ '

Roy subtly nodded 'yes' as he continued the examination. "Mike, I want to listen to your lungs so try to breathe as evenly as possible."

Johnny had make contact with Rampart, he was now on the line with Dr. Brackett. "Roy what are his vitals?"

Pulling the stethoscope away from Mike's chest he frowned and answered Johnny. "Pulse is 90, respirations 22 and labored."

As Johnny relayed the information Roy pulled out the B.P. cuff and wrapped it around Mike's arm. "B.P. is 130/90. He also has building congestion in both lungs with heavy coughing. I'm going to check for a fever."

Hearing Mike's symptoms put Johnny on edge, he knew all too well that respiratory infections were never to be taken lightly. As Johnny gave the latest vitals to Rampart, Roy confirmed the presence of fever. "Temperature is 101.4."

It seemed to take a lifetime before Dr. Brackett issued treatment. Johnny wrote down the orders and turned to Roy. "Start an I.V. of normal saline, oxygen at two liters and transport as soon as possible."

"Right, let's get you ready to go Mike."

Mike didn't respond at all, he jus closed his tired eyes and submitted to the fact that he was indeed ill.

* * *

 

It only took a moment to secure Mike to the gurney and load it into the back of the ambulance. Roy climbed into the back to ride along with Mike during transport. Johnny banged on the back of the ambulance doors twice before gathering the supplies and replacing them in their proper Squad compartments. The ambulance took off down the street to Rampart, it quickly disappeared from sight.

Just as Johnny climbed into the driver's seat of the squad to follow the ambulance Hank grabbed his attention through the window. "Hey Johnny?"

"Yeah Cap?"

"From the look on Roy's face I take it that whatever Mike has is worse than a little cold, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." Johnny didn't know what to say, despite his medical training he was not a doctor and couldn't give a definitive diagnosis. "But Rampart will help him."

"I know." Hank tried his best to conceal his worry. "I'm going to call in Mike's replacement. Call if there's any update, okay?"

"No problem."

* * *

 

Dixie McCall was studying the expression on Dr. Kelley Brackett's face. As the head nurse of Rampart she had seen her fair share of bizarre medical cases and was all too familiar with how Dr. Brackett looked when he was perplexed. "Kel? What's on your mind?"

Dr. Brackett and Dixie were still standing in the base station, the paper with Mike's vitals and symptoms in the good doctor's grasp. He barely heard Dixie speaking to him. "I'm sorry Dix, what did you say?"

"I was asking what was on your mind, but now I know."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't like it when firefighters or paramedic's are admitted. They come into so much contact with unknown variables that they're nothing short of a diagnostic nightmare at times."

"I know Kel, but sometimes it's a very simple diagnosis."

"You might be right. But the shortness of breath and congestion has me worried."

"All the same, I'll have treatment room two ready."

"Thanks Dix."

* * *

 

Roy gently lifted Mike's eyelid to check his pupils. Mike flinched and tried to turn away from the sudden bright light, Roy retracted his hand and apologized. "Sorry about that Mike. How're you feeling?"

Mike felt too tired to speak, instead he let out a weak sigh and that's all Roy needed to understand.

"Just a few more minutes, then Rampart will get you back on your feet."

The ambulance turned heavily and Roy knew they were now in the parking lot of Rampart General. After a few moments the ambulance slowed and back up toward the emergency entrance doors. From outside the driving ambulance attendant opened up the large doors on the back of the ambulance and helped Roy lower the gurney to the ground. Two orderlies exited the hospital and took a hole of the gurney. As they entered through the automatic doors Dixie greeted them and directed them into Exam Room 2.

Dr. Brackett was already waiting inside. Roy and Dixie followed the gurney and watched as the orderlies placed Mike on the examination table.

Clicking on his penlight Brackett proceeded to check Mike's eyes, he also got the same pained response Roy had received. "Sorry."

Roy walked over to the exam table and watched as Mike seemed to be breathing harder than before. "Doc, his breathing has become more labored."

Brackett put is hand on Mike's abdomen to check his respirations. "How long has he been sick Roy?"

"Four days."

"Four days?" Brackett took the stethoscope from his around his neck and slid the earpieces into place. He put the bell on Mike's chest and listened. "Why did it take him so long to see a doctor?"

"I guess he didn't think he was that sick."

Brackett didn't respond to Roy as he replaced his stethoscope. "Dix, get x-ray down here. I want a look at his chest." He then proceeded to check Mike's pulse.

"Right away Kel." Dixie walked over to the phone to inform x-ray.

Johnny arrived at the hospital and walked into the exam room. He stood next to Roy with the same concerned expressions on his face. "How's he doing?"

Roy answered his partner while trying to keep the worry out his voice. "They want to x-ray his chest."

Johnny didn't know how to respond.

Brackett lifted away the oxygen mask from Mike's face as he asked his patient a few questions. "Mike, what are your symptoms?"

Through his heavy fever red eyes Mike stared at Brackett's face. He swallowed once hoping that he wouldn't fall prey to another coughing fit as he answered in a weak voice. "Muscle aches... coughing... fever... I can't... I can't take a... full breath..."

Johnny and Roy pitied their colleague as they had never seen him so sick before. Mike wasn't the type of guy to complain, he'd rather suffer in silence than say or do anything that might worry his friends.

"Okay." Brackett slipped the oxygen mask into place. "The oxygen will help, just relax."

The x-ray technician walked into the room while wheeling the portable x-ray. Brackett, Dixie, Johnny and Roy left the room while the tech proceeded to set up the machine.

Out in the hallway Brackett was wringing his hands together anxiously. "Roy, you said that he has been sick for only four days?"

"That's what Mike said."

"Four days... Anything happen four days ago?"

Johnny immediately thought of the brushfire. "Mike and the rest of the guys battled a pretty intense brushfire."

Brackett continued to ask questions. "Did he suffer any smoke inhalation?"

"No, not that we were made aware of."

"Do you know if he was accidentally exposed to some kind of chemical or other contaminant?"

Roy shook his head no. "No. But..."

"What?" Brackett was becoming increasingly curious.

"After they returned to the station Mike sprayed down the interior of the cab with some disinfectant."

"Disinfectant? What for?"

Johnny answered this time. "Marco said a mouse was hiding in the engine's cab, so after returning to the station Mike cleaned it out."

"A mouse?"

Dixie could see the wheels turning in Brackett's mind. "Kel?"

"Rodents can carry a variety of infectious diseases and parasites. Dixie I want a full set of blood tests, check for any all abnormalities in red cell and white cell count. I also want to check for any signs of bites or open sores on his skin, pay close attention to his hands and face."

"Okay, Kel."

The x-ray tech exited the room and the worried group returned to check on Mike, who was laying as still as ever.

Dr. Brackett proceeded to check Mike's hands and face for any sign of insect bites, lesions or discoloration while Dixie began drawing blood samples for testing. Finding no unusual marks on Mike's skin, Brackett began examining down his arms and even his neck trying to find any sign, any clue as to what has Mike so ill so quickly. But just as before he found nothing out of the ordinary.

Suddenly Mike began coughing heavily, his body shaking with each wracking breath. Dr. Brackett removed the oxygen mask from Mike's face and rolled the ill man onto his side until the coughing fit ended. As it turned out the coughing was only the beginning, after the bout had ended Mike was unable to catch his breath. Putting the oxygen mas back over Mike's face, Brackett raised the end of the exam table so that Mike was sitting up slightly.

Johnny and Roy felt terrible watching their friend so helplessly sick. "Doc? Is there anything we can do?"

Brackett momentarily forgot that Johnny and Roy were even in the room with him. He looked over his shoulder toward Johnny. "Yeah, actually you can."

"What do you need us to do?" Roy was eager to help out as much as he could.

"I need you to go back to the station and bring back that disinfectant Mike had been using, there may be a connection."

"Right, anything else?"

Thinking quickly Brackett remembered the encounter with the mouse. "If you can find anything related to the mouse; bits of hair, fleas or droppings, anything at all, bag it and bring it back and we'll test it."

"You got it."

As Johnny and Roy exited the exam room Dixie returned with the folder containing the developed x-rays in her hands. "His x-rays are back."

"Perfect timing Dix, as usual."

"Thanks, I do my best."

Removing the templates from the manila folder Dr. Brackett placed them up onto the lightbox and flipped the switch. The bright white light illuminated through the x-rays allowing Brackett to immediately identify the building congestion and possible edema.

"From the look of his chest I'd say he has pneumonia."

Dixie could see that Brackett's wasn't fully convinced of the diagnosis. "But?"

"I'm not sure. It just doesn't seem plausible for a man who has great health with no prior history of respiratory infections or immunological deficiencies to come down with such a severe case in such a short amount of time."

"Well, what else could it be?"

"I'm not sure." He turned back toward Mike who was still breathing heavily, a light fog from his breaths coating the inside of the oxygen mask. "I'd like some more information before I make a final diagnosis."

"I'm sure if anyone else at the station thinks of anything that could help, they'll let you know right away."

"I don't doubt them Dix." Placing his hand on Mike's abdomen he counted the feeble respirations again. "I do doubt that he'll be able to hang on too much longer without some form of treatment."

* * *

 

Arriving back at the station Johnny made a beeline from the Squad to the utility closet in the garage. He began looking through all the containers, spray bottles and cans of disinfectants. Roy took the liberty of updating Captain Stanley on Mike's situation.

Chet heard Johnny clambering about inside the closet, he movement's echoing noisily throughout the large garage. Curious about so many things, Chet walked into the garage to get Johnny's attention.

"Gage? What're you doing?" He stood back from the closet.

"Looking for the disinfectant that Mike used on the engine. Did you know where it is?"

Chet flashed a look of dread. "Um, yeah. It's in the trash."

Johnny stepped back from the closet and looked at Chet. "What? Why?"

"Mike used most of it up when he cleaned the cab and the rest was used up by 'C' shift. There was only a little left so I tossed it."

"Go get it! It might be the reason why Mike is sick!"

"Are you... Right, I'll go get it!" Chet dashed into the kitchen retrieve the empty bottle from the trash.

Roy exited from Captain Stanley's office, with Hank following. "Get the bottle?"

"Chet's getting it now." Johnny was rubbing anxiously at his brow.

Hank looked up at 'Big Red'. "Did you check the cab for any signs of the mouse yet?"

"Not yet."

"Well, I don't think you'll find anything anyway. Mike was pretty thorough and after three more days I'm sure if anything _was_ left it has been destroyed."

"Yeah." Johnny looked at Roy. "Want to check anyway?"

"That's what I was about to ask you."

Chet returned from the kitchen with the empty bottle. It was inside a rolled down brown paper bag. "Here. Hope this helps."

Roy took the bag from Chet. "So do we."

The Klaxon's blared with their usual tone throughout the station. Johnny and Roy held their breath praying that they wouldn't have to go on a run as dispatch went off. _'Squad 51; woman in labor: 996 Maple, 996 Maple. Time-Out: 10:04.'_

Hank wrote down the address and confirmed the call to dispatch as Johnny and Roy reluctantly climbed back into the engine. Roy gave the bag back to Chet just to make sure nothing happened to it during their run.

As the Squad pulled away Johnny looked over at Roy. "Man, I hope this doesn't take too long."

"I know, but we can't exactly expect her to wait until Mike's better."

"Yeah, I think she'd be pretty upset if we even _tried_ to ask!"

* * *

 

Dr. Brackett was sitting in his office staring at Mike's chest x-rays. There was no denying what he was seeing, yet he was still having a hard time really accepting the degree of severity in Mike's condition.

There was a knock at his office door and Dixie opened it quickly before he had a chance to respond. "Kel! Mike Stoker's having trouble breathing, possible respiratory arrest."

Brackett practically leapt over the top of his desk to the door. "Who's with him right now?"

"Dr. Early and Dr. Morton."

Dr. Brackett pushed open the door to exam room two with Dixie on his heels. He saw both Dr. Early and Dr. Morton hovering over Mike checking his vitals, the now active ventilator was attached to the tube that had been inserted down Mike's throat.

"What happened Joe?" Brackett was checking Mike's eyes.

"He coughed violently and then he couldn't breathe, needed to be intubated. We're inserting the chest tube." Early answered matter-of-factly.

"Chest tube?" Brackett sounded confused.

"Take a listen."

Brackett pressed his stethoscope to Mike's chest and heard how congested his lungs had become. Even with assistance from the respirator breath sounds were barely audible.

Dr. Morton had cut away Mike's shirt exposing his chest, the leads from the cardiac monitor were promptly applied and the familiar rhythmic beeping of rapid heart rate filled the room. Swabbing iodine on the side of Mike's rib cage Morton lifted a small scalpel and looked at Early. "Ready?"

"Ready." The chest tube was waiting in Early's gloved hand.

With swift precision and skilled hands the chest tube was properly inserted into the fresh incision and almost immediately fluid began draining from Mike's chest cavity. As the fluid drained in steady but slow pace, Mike's breathing became less labored and his heart rate began to calm.

Brackett was listening intently to Mike's breathing all the while the wheels in his mind turning. "I don't like this Joe."

"Neither do I."

Morton was carefully monitoring the amount of fluid that had been drained and was continuing to drain. "I'm not a fan either."

Brackett and Early looked over at Mike and took in the sight of the amount of substantial fluid that was escape Mike's chest.

Dixie was already at the phone when Brackett asked her to contact x-ray again.

* * *

 

Roy was driving the Squad while Johnny rode in the ambulance with the new, young mother and her newborn son. Taking a slight detour Roy stopped back in the station to retrieve the bottle from Chet before continuing on his way to Rampart.

As the ambulance backed toward the doors of the hospital Johnny stepped down from the large opened doors as two orderlies wheeled the new mother into the hospital. He followed inside quickly, his attention focused solely on Mike rather than his stable patients. Spying Dixie sitting at the bay station he walked over to her with a thousand questions readied to be asked.

"Dix? How's he doing?"

She looked up at him, her blue eyes filled with concern. "Not good."

Johnny felt the blood drain from his face. "What happened?" He looked toward the exam room and saw that Brackett and Morton were standing outside the door. Early had met the new mother and was tending to her in another room at the moment.

"Mike... He needed to be intubated."

"What? Why?"

Roy had arrived at the hospital with the paper bag in hand, he had overheard the conversation as he approached the desk.

Dixie continued. "He began coughing heavily and couldn't catch his breath. After he was intubated he had a chest tube inserted and a lot of fluid had been drained."

"Fluid?" Roy was just as worried as Johnny.

"Yeah. Almost two liters were drained in the end."

Roy handed her the paper bag. "Do they know what he has yet?"

"Not yet."

The door to the exam room opened and the x-ray technician exited once again, the large portable x-ray being wheeled out as he left. Brackett and Morton returned to the room, Johnny, Roy and Dixie all followed.

The sight of Mike attached to a machine that was breathing for him was a sight that neither Johnny or Roy ever wanted to see. It was painful to see him so pale, so weak and so still.

Dixie handed the bag to Brackett. He took the bag and looked inside then looked up at the two concerned paramedics. "This is the disinfectant he was using?"

Roy nodded silently.

Brackett took the bottle in his hands, opened up the top and waved the bottle under his nose to smell a sample of the lingering contents. "Smells like standard disinfectant," He eyed the listed active ingredients on the bottle's label. "No overwhelming bleach of ammonia." His tone was almost disappointed as he put the bottle back in the bag and handed it back to Dixie. "All the same I want the bottle tested for any type of possible chemical contamination or improper mixture."

"Okay." She accepted the bag and exited the room with quiet dignity.

Brackett looked back at the two paramedics who seemed transfixed on their ill colleague. "Come with me." He motioned with his hand for the duo to follow.

Reluctantly they left the room and followed Brackett. He took them into the doctor's lounge and poured three cups of coffee. "I take it you didn't find any sign of the mouse in the engine."

"No." Roy sat down on the couch heavily. "When we went out on that last run Chet and Cap checked the engine for us, and they didn't find anything."

Johnny sat on the couch next to his partner. "Doc?" Brackett didn't say anything, he knew what the question was going to be. "This isn't a common infection, is it?"

Brackett shook his head somberly. "No, I don't think it is."

* * *

 

Mike's condition remained unchanged. Reluctantly Johnny and Roy left Rampart to return to the station. The drive back was quiet and uneventful. As the squad pulled into the station's garage they saw Hank standing in the doorway of his office, waiting to ask his paramedic's about Mike's condition.

Johnny and Roy exited the squad and gave their captain a blank look.

"Roy, Johnny. Any update on Mike?"

Roy sighed. "Yes and no."

Hank ran his fingers through his dark hair anxiously. "Should we have a discussion in my office?"

"Yeah, I think so."

The three men walked into the office and closed the door quietly behind them. Hank sat behind his desk while Johnny and Roy sat in the two chairs across from his desk. "Okay, tell me what you know."

With a somber tone Roy answered. "Well, they still don't know what Mike has, and he... He needed to be intubated." Roy stared at the floor for a moment as he tried to find the proper words to continue explaining. "When we left Brackett had Mike moved to I.C.U., he's no sure if quarantine will be necessary or not."

Hank leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. "It really is that bad, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

Johnny was just as upset as his colleagues but didn't want to show it. Instead he tried to sound positive. "Don't worry Cap, they'll figure out what got Mike sick and take care of it."

Hank nodded toward the younger paramedic. "I know, I just don't like waiting."

Roy grinned. "I don't think Mike likes the idea of waiting either."

* * *

 

Dr. Brackett was in his office looking over Mike's latest chest x-rays with a grimace. Dixie knocked on the closed door and gently opened it. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." He briefly took his eyes away from the x-ray to look at her.

"Still unsure of the diagnosis?"

"Unfortunately, no." Brackett slipped the x-rays back into their manila folder. "On top of the chronic congestion and building edema, that last coughing fit fractured two of his ribs."

Dixie closed her blue eyes as her heart went out to Mike. "Some guys have all the luck."

"Tell me about it." Brackett rubbed his hands together restlessly. "Has his blood work come back yet?"

"Yes Kel." There was mild hesitation in her voice.

"Dix? Is there something wrong with his blood work?"

"Well, we're not sure." She folded her arms across her chest. "The tests revealed some type of bacterial infection, but no one has been able to identify it."

Those words made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "What do you mean no one's been able to identify it?"

Dixie shook her head. "It's exactly what it sounds like, there's an unknown bacteria in his blood. We've already sent the samples to the C.D.C. for analysis."

Brackett looked down at the opened file sitting on his desk. "I wish I could have more information about the mouse."

"Mouse?" Dixie seemed a little confused.

"Yeah, apparently four days ago the engine had an encounter with a field mouse during a brushfire and Mike cleaned the cab. It was after this he started feeling sick."

"Illnesses caused by rodent's are pretty common, if it was the mouse that made him sick then shouldn't the lab be able to identify the bacteria?"

"Maybe it's a new strain. Or..." Brackett quickly thought back to that eventful time when he and Johnny were infected by that strange monkey virus. "We could be dealing with something new."

Dixie's eyes widened. "Has every other possible infection been ruled out?"

"Initially I would suspect 'Leptospirosis' but the chest congestion doesn't fit. Same with 'Rat-Bite Fever', not to mention the lack of any sign of bites on his body. 'Tularemia' is the mostly likely suspect but without an insect bites or direct contact with the mouse I can't be certain."

Dixie could see in Brackett's eyes the building confusion and concern. "C'mon, let's get some coffee."

* * *

 

At the station Johnny was thumbing through a medical encyclopedia, like he would suddenly find the answer, while Roy was trying to keep his mind preoccupied with restocking the supplies in the squad.

No one really spoke that evening, just quick yes and no questions to substitute as conversations. The day was slow and made waiting all that more unbearable. As their shift came to an end each man left the station with one thing on their minds: Mike.

* * *

 

Having the day off did not ease the tension or worry for Station 51. One at a time Hank, Johnny, Roy, Chet and Marco arrived at Rampart to visit Mike. It was an uncomfortable sight to see Mike so sick and lifeless with wires and tubes snaking over his prone form. The sound of the beeping heart monitor and pumping ventilator only made the sight that much more unbearable.

Being paramedic's didn't make the situation any easier or less impactful for Johnny and Roy. In fact, the medical knowledge they had electively acquired through their training had turned their concern for a friend into a building anxiety, knowing that the worse case scenario often looks that way that Mike looked now.

Hank, Chet and Marco would take turns sitting next to Mike's bed. They'd simply talk to him, telling him about their day and what he had missed. It wasn't much, but in their minds they believed that by talking to Mike like he was still conscious that it'd help him to recover.

Johnny and Roy would drop in and out of Mike's room but for the most part they'd spend time with Dixie, waiting for any possible clue to identify Mike's illness. The only information the doctor's could confirm was that the infection could not transmitted through person-to-person contact.

Hank was the first to visit Mike, he did his best to hide his mounting concern as he sat down next to Mike's bed to chat. "Hey Mike. I never thought I'd see you like this pal, you're always so careful. I'm not sure if you can ever hear me but I'm going to talk to ya' anyway. We need you to get better and handle the engine again. Chet's okay, but he's no Mike Stoker. Not to mention the fact that Chet is still experimenting with new recipes and insists on using _us_ as the guinea pigs."

It was a little difficult but Hank managed to laugh, hoping that if Mike could hear him that the humor would lift his spirits. "Tell ya' what, when you come back you're off latrine duty for three months, deal?"

Of course Mike remained silent but in Hank's mind he felt like Mike had heard him.

Johnny was next to arrive. "Hey, no change?"

"Not yet."

"Why don't you go get some coffee, I'll sit with him."

"Yeah, good idea."

As Hank left Johnny sat in the now vacant chair. "You know Mike, I've been thinking." Johnny managed to sound upbeat as he spoke. "I think that this whole mystery sickness thing is a little plot created by _and Roy_ just to make me feel as bad as you guys did all the times I got hurt!" Johnny grinned at the very idea. "You know what? I get it! Now you can get up, right?"

Unsurprisingly Mike remained still.

"Yeah, I'll give you points for commitment there Mike."

Hank returned with his coffee, Marco and Chet had arrived and followed their off-duty captain into Mike's room.

Johnny rose from his chair. "Well, if you're all here then surely Roy is here still, too."

Chet nodded. "Yeah, he's with Dixie."

"Right, I'm going to see if anything new has been found out."

Johnny left the room, leaving his three colleagues to sit vigil at Mike's bedside. The truth was that Johnny was petrified that Mike wouldn't recover from illness and would perish in the night. So much could go so wrong with the human body, especially in the respiratory and cardiovascular systems. To hide his fear he left the room and took his negative thoughts with him.

Fortunately Roy knew his partner all too well and was able to understand Johnny's desires to leave Mike's room.

* * *

 

Dr. Brackett spent time in his office pondering over Mike's test results while waiting for a call from the C.D.C. Fortunately even without a definitive diagnosis Mike's condition was beginning to steadily, but slowly improve, by using common sense treatment for respiratory infections.

The biggest problem that Brackett was worried about was possible long term damage to Mike's pulmonary tissue. Without a name to give the infection the prognosis was just as mysterious as the diagnosis itself.

* * *

 

As the days dragged on painfully slow Mike's symptoms and vitals would gradually improve. The lung congestion was beginning to clear, the edema was longer being drained from his chest, his fever reduced until it was low-grade and the delicate balance of hydration was no longer an immediate concern. After a week of intubation, an irritatingly long week, Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early extubated their sick patient. Mike was only vaguely aware of what was happening to him, he was still physically weak and had a hard time staying awake during the process.

A few reflexive painful coughs as his throat was cleared informed Mike that he had fractured ribs.

Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early was optimistic that Mike was going to make a recovery but they weren't sure how extensive his recovery would be, or if a possibly compromised respiratory system would prevent him from returning to duty as a firefighter.

Blood test after blood test showed the same unknown bacterial anomaly, but with each test the bacteria was becoming less abundant. A good sign.

Another week's stay in the hospital, with frequent visitor's from not only Station 51 but every other firefighter or paramedic who respected him, did Mike a world of good with his recovery. Not to mention he finally stopped coughing and his muscle aches had greatly diminished. Resting was easy and welcomed.

When the day finally came and Mike was checked out of the hospital he was greeted by a happy group of his dearest friends and colleagues. Even Brackett and Early joined in on the mini celebration.

The only unresolved problem with Mike's illness was the constant lack of identity, but this wouldn't remain forever. Someday illness would finally be known.

* * *

 

After all of Mike's tests came back normal and he was able to pass his physical with flying colors the entire hospital let out a collective sigh of relief alongside the stationhouse. There was no permanent damage to his lungs and no sign of any complication from the intubation or chest tubes, his blood work also returned clean.

Upon Mike's return to the station, after a month of recovery, he was warmly welcomed back by all his colleagues. Chet even bought Mike a return gift, a mouse trap.

"Funny Chet." Mike just shook his head at the object in his hand.

"What?" Chet grinned. "I think that's a great idea! Next time a mouse sneaks onto 'Big Red' just set that baby down and walk away, problem solved."

Johnny butted in. "Or we could just have you take care of it."

Roy added. "Yeah, remember the great job you did with 'Herbert'?"

Everyone laughed at Chet who just stood their with an embarrassed smile on his face. The Klaxon's sounded off interrupting the reunion, but without a moment's hesitation every man went to work and promptly took their positions in both the Squad and the Engine. The best part of the day was seeing Mike back behind the wheel of the engine as the rig pulled out of the station.

**_-The End_ **

**Author's Note: ' Hantaviruses'**(HPS) are RNA viruses that are transmitted to human by rodents. **' Hantavirus'** was first identified in an outbreak in **1993** in the "Four Corners" area of the southwestern U.S. and found to be transmitted to humans by rodent urine, feces, saliva, and by airborne particles containing these items.

The 2012 outbreak at Yosemite National Park was due to hantavirus transfer to humans by deer mice. Human-to-human transmission of hantavirus in the Americas has not been documented. **' Hantavirus'** is usually diagnosed presumptively by the patient's lung symptoms or the patient's association with rodents, or the patient's probable contact with rodent-contaminated airborne dust; chest X-rays provide additional evidence, but definitive diagnosis is usually done at a specialized lab or the CDC.

There is no specific treatment of ' **Hantavirus** '; patients are usually treated in an intensive-care facility and often require respiratory support (intubation).

Complications of 'Hantavirus' are death in about 38% of patients; if the HPS patient survives, there are usually no long-term complications. For patients who survive HPS, the prognosis is very good without complications. Prevention of HPS centers on avoidance of rodent contamination; there is no vaccine available to prevent hantavirus infection or HPS.

* **with that being said, just because the diseases was identified until 1993 doesn't mean it did not exist or go undiagnosed before that time. It's not like in 1993 rodents suddenly acquired a new strain of bacteria that was deemed hazardous to humans, they've been carrying that bacterial strain for generations, which is why it was never fully identified in this story.**

**I hope the lack of identification didn't disappoint you.**


End file.
